


Deals

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Promises, Other, Post-Episode: s10e23 My Brother's Keeper, Threats, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Sam wants to back out of a deal and kill Rowena. Reader tries to convince him otherwise.





	Deals

Dean Winchester had been freed of the Mark of Cain. Rowena had made good on her end of the deal. You stood beside her, leaning against the wall. You avoided looking into the witch's eyes, staring aside to give her privacy, to let her grieve in peace. She seemed fine on the outside, looked fine, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Nobody would be fine after being forced to kill their stepchild in exchange for their freedom.

Your eyes trailed to the body in the corner. You had made sure to drag Oskar away and cover him with a raggedy sheet you'd found lying around. Rowena had said nothing, but you could tell she appreciated the gesture.

The witch had been hard to read. She was tough, wicked, not above manipulating and playing mind games with everyone she laid eyes on. However, there was something below the surface she was desperately trying to hide, tried to bury it and pretend it didn't exist. A depth, a softness she didn't want anybody to see in her. Almost as if she had been ashamed of it.

You had only known her for a few weeks, but it seemed as if you'd known her for a lifetime. Sam had brought you in to keep an eye on her, to make sure she didn't slack or try to play any tricks while she worked on translating the Book of the Damned. At first you objected; keeping anyone, even a wicked witch, prisoner, chained up in a cold, dirty warehouse was wrong. Pure and simple. Eventually, you relented. At the very least, you could make this person's – forceful – stay more comfortable.

It didn't take long for you to befriend her. Rowena had recognized that you were a witch right away. One look at you, and she knew. It had been a secret you'd been keeping from the Winchesters; had they known, there was no doubt in your mind they would have put a bullet right in your skull. You couldn't risk it. Especially since you weren't even all that good at witchcraft.

What was the point of being a natural born witch if you sucked at it?

Rowena had promised to teach you. You told her it was pointless, that you'd tried to learn from a few witches in the past and every single one had given up on you. She, in turn, had said none of those witches were her.

You believed her.

Sam wouldn't give you the key to her handcuffs, so you stuck around the warehouse as much as you could. Rowena needed someone to talk to, and you loved hearing stories of her adventures. As it turned out, she wasn't as bad as she presented herself as. She just needed a chance.

And a chance, you'd given her.

A smile spread across your face as Sam walked into the warehouse.

Then it faded when he pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at Rowena.

Heart jumping in fear, you said, "Sam, what are you doing?"

"I took care of my end of the deal, giant," Rowena said. A smirk crept onto her lips. If she had been afraid, her face didn't show it.

"You did," Sam said. "Now we're done."

Rowena laughed. "Should have known you Winchesters would go back on your word."

"We don't make deals with witches."

"Yet, you did just that."

"Sam, please," you said. You raised your hands in a placating gesture. "Let's talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You said you'd let her go if she did what you asked," you reminded him.

"Don't you see, lass? He lied. That's why you should never trust a hunter," Rowena said, the last sentence a lesson. You'd made a point of keeping it in mind.

Rowena had been right – Winchesters weren't to be trusted.  _Hunters_  weren't to be trusted. If you wanted to embrace the full potential of your magic and be the witch you were born to be, you had to make a choice. It was either people who pretended to be on your side, lied through their teeth, and were ready to kill you the moment they found out about your true nature, or a woman who was openly evil and manipulative and only wanted to teach you because she saw potential in your power.

It hadn't been a difficult choice to make.

"She's a  _witch,_  Y/N," Sam said, spitting the word  _witch_  as if it was made out of poison.

 _So am I,_  you thought. Tears pickled at your eyes, but you held them back. You should have known this would happen. "She's a  _person._ _"_

"She killed innocent people."

"And you and Dean haven't? Don't make me pull out receipts!" you snapped. You could write a book about their wrongdoings – and those were just the ones you'd been aware of. Who knows what else they had done that you had no knowledge of?

Sam sighed and shook his head. "She's dangerous."

"So are you and Dean. So am I. So is everyone! Give her a chance. Please."

"Why are you defending her?"

"Because it's not fair. She did everything you asked. And you caged her up like an animal, and now you want her to die. I thought you were a good person, Sam, but I was wrong. Good people don't do that."

Sam just stared, gaze flickering from you to Rowena and to the gun firmly held in his hand, finger all but on the trigger, ready to pull it. Your heart raced with each passing second.

Then Sam spoke and you let out a breath of relief, invisible weight lifting off your shoulders.

"I'll let you go this time." He lowered the gun. His eyes connected with Rowena's with a glare. It had been a threat, a warning. "You even  _think_  about hurting another innocent person, and you're dead." His glance shifted to you. "Whatever she does is on you, Y/N. I hope you made the right choice."

You could live with that. "I have."

Rowena, unable to his a victorious smirk, chuckled. As if all of this was a game. Maybe to her, it was. To you, it was anything but.

Tossing you the keys, Sam left the warehouse, slamming the door on the way out. Instantly, you rushed to Rowena. She held out her arms and you made quick work on the handcuffs. Letting the heavy chains fall to the floor, you took hold her wrists, gently, careful not to disturb possible injuries.

"You okay?"

"Aye," Rowena replied. Pulling up her sleeves, she showed off perfect, untouched skin. She rubbed her wrists together, then lowered the sleeves, straightening them. She wasted no time heading for the door, itching to get out of this moldy, dusty prison that had been her home for weeks on end. Halfway there, she stopped and turned back to you. "Coming, dear?"

"Yeah." You ran to stand beside her. "Question: where exactly are we going?"

Rowena's mouth widened into a bright smile. "Wherever we want." It was supposed to be a statement, yet it sounded more like a promise, a vow.

You liked the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by my friend OswinTheStrange.


End file.
